


Snippets from Universes Never Written

by LurkingCrow



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Crack, Fluff, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-03-17 07:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13653999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LurkingCrow/pseuds/LurkingCrow
Summary: Collection of ficlets and prompt responses frommy Tumblrthat aren't quite enough to stand their own.Chapter 1: Obi-Wan shaves the beard. No one recognises him. Utter crack.Chapter 2: Random word prompts - "Monovular" "Viceregent" "Feuillemort" and "Apoplectiform". Both angst and crack.Chapter 3: Obi-Wan, Luke and toy ships. Sad yet hopeful.Chapter 4: Qui-Gon's couch is the comfiest in the Order. Family feels.Chapter 5: Ahsoka prompt, Fallen Star. Painful angst.Chapter 6: Obi-Wan and Anakin, time travel reunion. Unrepentant sap.Chapter 7: Three unexpected prompts: yet another take on time travel, both a sad and happy take on Obi-Wan and cuddles, and one potentially scarring understanding of "Obitine"





	1. Obi-Wan loses the beard

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from [Tumblr:](https://lurkingcrow.tumblr.com/post/164025716324/obi-wan-shaves-the-beard-and-no-one-can)
> 
>  
> 
> _"Obi-wan shaves the beard... and no one can recognise him. Later once people finally figure out who that clean shaven, auburn haired Jedi is they continue it as part of some elaborate joke, Obi-wan doesn't know whether or not to be amused or annoyed."_

It had been a stroke of tactical genius. Leading the 212th through the dense, seemingly impenetrable swampland surrounding the North approach to the Separatist base on Palus IX using only his Force sense to guide them had been tricky, but Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi could not fault the results. It may have impeded his own troops’ movements, but it was nothing compared to the difficulties the thick, viscous mud caused the battle droids and tanks of the CIS forces. The fact that that same mud had also hidden their heat signatures until it was too late for their enemies to rally against the surprise attack was another bonus. Yes, it had been a good plan. There was however one unexpected downside.

Obi-Wan looks in the mirror of the small fresher adjoining his quarters aboard the Negotiator. It’s no use. Cleansing solutions had removed the majority of organic matter from his skin, but everything else… He sighs. His clothing unsurprisingly had been a complete write off, as had the helmet and goggles Cody insisted he wear. He has hoped however that he might have been able to salvage something from the malodorous mess that currently sat on his chin. Sadly it appears that he has no other option. With a small pang of regret he reaches for the razor.

 

******  
The first sign he had that something was up was the way his men kept eying him suspiciously as he made his way towards the bridge. He mentally shrugged and attributed it to a bit of lingering resentment over their rapid embarking and the subsequent delay in accessing shower facilities. He knows it can’t have been pleasant in the dropships for those not already rendered nose blind by their trek through the swamp.

It is not so easy to wave off the challenge he receives outside the bridge.

“I’m sorry Sir, I wasn’t informed we picked up another Jedi on that last op. If you’ll give me a moment I’ll comm the Commander to sort out your authorisation.”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes.

“Very funny Wooley, now let me through. If I’m not mistaken General Skywalker will be calling an update on our position shortly and there are matters we need to discuss.”

The guard does not move an inch from the door, instead raising a wrist to speak into his comm.

“Commander. I’ve got a situation out here. Need an ID confirmation on the General.”

Ok, this was really taking the home too far!

“Oh for… Cody! Aurek-Niner-Isk-zero-Nexu-Orbit. It’s me. Now enough joking, we have a job to do.”

Cody waves off Wooley’s concern.

“Stand down trooper. It’s General Kenobi.” He gestures for Obi-Wan to proceed ahead of him and waits a moment to allow the door to shut behind them. “ Sir, with all respect, in the future it would probably be advisable to inform me about missions involving cover identities before you begin modification.”

Obi-Wan just stares.

“Pardon?”

Cody looks somewhat abashed.

“I know you probably have your reasons Sir, but as your Commander I would appreciate the heads up - we can’t have received new orders so this infiltration mission has to have been planned from the beginning and…”

“Cody, there is no mission.”

This time it is Cody’s turn to look at him in incomprehension.

“Then why the…” the Clones Commander makes a vague movement around his chin and suddenly it clicks.

“Oh! I see. I shaved Commander. My beard was beyond redemption so I took it all off.” He lets out a small chuckle. “Of course, it’s been some time since I was last clean-shaven.” He hesitates for a moment. “It doesn’t look that bad does it?”

“No Sir!” Cody is quick to reassure him. “It’s just a bit different, that’s all.”

“Well hopefully you needn’t get used to it for too long. I’ll be growing it back as soon as I can - a beard is far less effort to maintain on campaign and I don’t care what Anakin says, lightsabers are not an appropriate substitute for razors!”

“Er, Yes Sir.”

*******  
“Obi-Wan! Good to see yo… What the kriff happened!? What did he touch? Has medical checked him out yet!?”

The blue hologram reaches out as if to try and touch Obi-Wan across the vast distance of space.

“Anakin, I am completely fine!”

“Good, you still recognise me - that means it’s only a physical effect. I’ll contact the council and we’ll…”

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan focused his former student with his best glare. “What in Force are you talking about?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact that my old Master looks like he’s just stepped momentarily away from teaching child me the basic Shi-Cho forms?”

Obi-Wan raises his hand to stroke his beard in exasperation only to abruptly realise it’s no longer there. He rolls his eyes instead.

“I shaved Anakin. That’s all.”

“Really? Huh. It’s kinda eerie how little you’ve changed. Guess you just have one of those babyfaces!”

“Fine. Thank you Anakin. Can we move on to more important matters now?”

“Of course Master.” Anakin says contritely.

(Obi-Wan swears that he hears him mutter something under his breath. It sounds a bit like “wait until Padmé hears about this!”. He doesn’t want to think about that too much.)

Their debrief continues without further interruption. It still takes a few hours for the news of is impromptu haircut to make its way through the ranks. Boil sends him a sympathy card - the excellent seals on the the standard clone helmets mean his moustache was none the worse for wear after their swamp escapades. Obi-Wan tries not to feel slightly jealous.

******  
He could take the amused looks from most of the council. He can empathize with the way Master Yoda kept looking at his left ear as if searching a long gone braid of hair. He can even tolerate Vos’ jibes about needing to carry ID to get into cantinas (well, he can once he’s arranged for Anakin to reprogram Quinlan’s astromech to play “The best of Sy Snootles” on repeat the next time he enters hyperspace). But this? This is getting to be too much!

“… invite you since you’re obviously not at the Temple often.”

“Knight A’den, while I appreciate the offer, I’m afraid tonight I will be rather busy with the high council strategy meeting and must decline.”

“High council… Master Kenobi?!?”

“Indeed. Now if you’ll excuse me?”

With that Obi-Wan walks over to where a snickering Anakin and a gently amused Plo are waiting, leaving the mortified young Knight behind him.

“That is the sixth person to offer to “show me around Coruscant” this morning!” he gripes, shaking his head. “ I’d applaud their dedication to investigating individuals of uncertain identity within the Temple if it weren’t for the fact that not one of them even tried to take note of my force presence!”

At this Anakin breaks out into outright guffaws. Plo at least appears a little more composed.

“I believe they may have been somewhat distracted by other factors, Obi-Wan.”

“Other factors? Yes, many of the younger Jedi haven’t seen me without the beard, but there’s nothing there to attract their attention. No new scars or moles, I checked!”

By this point Anakin is making no effort to hide his laughter as he steadies himself against the wall.

“Nothing *snerk* except your face itself!” He manage to get out between bouts of hilarity.

Plo intercedes for the obviously struggling Skywalker. “You are, by all accounts, considered quite an attractive man, Master Kenobi. If somewhat intimidating. I suspect the lack of knowledge regarding your identity your apparent youthfulness in the absence of a beard has left you somewhat more approachable than usual.”

Obi-Wan thinks for a moment. Now that he considers it, Padawan Stassi had been leaning in rather close and Knight A’den was a little too eager to suggest a private dinner - if he hadn’t been so caught up in his irritation… “Oh. Oh dear. That does explain it.”

This sets Anakin off again. “You didn’t even notice.” He chokes out between giggles. “You’re off your game old man! Maybe you need to take a break, get used to the effect that babyface of yours has on unwary admirers.”

Obi-Wan holds his tongue about Anakin’s own misadventures with flirtation but makes a note to send Padmé the pictures of his teenage padawan following the incident with the modified cleaning droid - he is certain she will enjoy them as much as he does.

Speaking of teenage padawans - a clatter of footsteps announces Ahsoka’s arrival in the scene.

“Hello Masters! Have any of you seen Master Kenobi? I can feel he’s around here somewhere and I have a message from Master Windu for him.”

Obi-Wan feels a surge of pride for his grand-padawan, even as he prepares for the now standard reaction when she realises he is right in front of her. At least she had thought to trust the Force!

“I’m right here Ahsoka. What does Mace want now?”

Ahsoka jumps straight into reciting her message ( something about an upcoming diplomatic mission requiring his expertise), and it is only as she paused for breath that she seems to take notice of his changed appearance.

“Your beard’s gone!”

Obi-Wan cannot help but smile. “So it is. A good observation Padawan. It is a shame your peers are not always as insightful.”

His jest falls flat, as Ahsoka’s face freezes and gains a distinct pallor.

Immediately Anakin sheds his levity in the name of checking on his padawan’s welfare. “Snips? You okay?”

She straightens a little. “I’m fine Master. I just… realised a few things about the “hot new Knight” Barriss mentioned this morning.”

This time, not even Plo’s respirator can hide his amusement.

Obi-Wan groans. Maybe he should find a way to remove himself from the Temple for the time being…

********  
As it turns out no machinations are necessary. The diplomatic mission in question involves a meeting between Senate representatives and delegates from the Alliance of Neutral Systems regarding trade policies… on Mandalore.

Padmé at least has the decency to pretend that nothing is amiss, although he does see the corner of her mouth twitch up as security checks his ID three times before letting him through.

Satine though…

“My dear Ben!” She croons as they walk into the meeting. “How wonderful it is to see your face again! It has been so long!”  
  
Obi-Wan hides his wince behind a charming smile, desperately missing the cover his beard once provided. The Duchess' satisfied smirk tells him she is never going to let this go...


	2. Random word prompts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Assorted responses to random word definitions previously posted on Tumblr ](https://lurkingcrow.tumblr.com/post/162873437703/lurkingcrow-lurkingcrow-lurkingcrow)

_**Monovular**  
Definition: derived from a single egg or ovum of twins as identical twins are monovular Contrasted with fraternal_

 

“But that makes no sense!”

“I know Commander, but I’ve run the test eight times with three seperate machines. The result comes out the same every time. Based on the genescan, you and the Princess are a complete match - monovular twins.

Leia raises one eyebrow archly at the Alliance medic, ignoring her now spluttering brother.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Luke and I have some rather fundamental differences. Aside from our completely different height, colouring and personalities, there is the slight matter of our sexes to consider. The test is wrong.

The poor medic looked on the verge of hysteria.

“Look, I knew we were expecting a full sibling match - and you have no idea how much I could clean up in the betting pool if you hadn’t sworn me to secrecy about that, but I’m not crazy! It doesn’t make sense, it defies everything I know about human biology, and if you’ve got non-human heritage it’s not in any database I know, but that is what the analyser says!” she takes a deep breath, and an even deeper swig from a bottle of moonshine saved from the victory celebrations following Endor.

 Another swig. “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go get drunk and forget about impossible genescans for at least the next three cycles before I can try to work my way thought this!”

  
The door shuts behind her, leaving the pair of twins in the now empty medbay with a copy of the improbable results.

  
“This is going to turn out to be a Force thing isn’t it” sighs Leia in resignation.  
“Probably” Luke admits “It sounds like the sort of thing that can only happen to us.”

  
Much later, after many discussions with certain glowing blue figures who really should have WARNED them about the whole “Force assisted conception” thing (“To be fair” Anakin muses “We figured it was a contraceptive failure - I never even thought about the possibility that it was something like what happened with Mom. I mean, you had two parents for a start! How were we to know it was genetic?”) and detailed arguments about the logistics (“But Grandma Shmi was a short brunette woman - how does that even work?!”) the twins decide that it is best if this stays with them for the time being. There’s no need to tell anyone else about their familial propensity for impossible conceptions…  
  


Six months later Leia curses as she looks at the test in her fingers and heads to the hangar to grab Luke. She is NOT explaining this to Han on her own.

*******

 

_**Vicegerent**  
Definition: Having or exercising delegated power acting by substitution or in the place of another_

 

 

"Muahaha! More Muja cakes please! Your Goddess commands it!”

“Snips, don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far?”

“Nope!” Ahsoka said, popping the last p with relish. “Senator Amidala was quite clear! During the feast of Shiraya the youngest girl in every family becomes the designated avatar of the goddess and must be treated accordingly if her blessings are to be bestowed for the following year! I’m just being culturally sensitive Master. I wouldn’t want her to be disappointed when she gets back from the official ceremonies.”

Anakin raised his eyebrows.  
“I see. How admirable of you. I’ll remember your dedication the next time we visit Kellaris IX”

From his position above the couch where the padawan sprawled Fives snickered. A sharp glare set him back to his fanning, but not without thoughts of their visit to the system where youths below the age of maturity were expected to wear full body coverings and only speak with the permission of an adult member of their immediate kin group. Given the vibrations coming from the region near her feet it appeared Ahsoka’s impromptu footstool (AKA Echo, being rather tolerant of it all) also recalled that mission.

The padawan pouted. “Come on Skyguy! It’s a celebration! We wouldn’t want to offend the Naboo when they went to all the trouble of inviting us. Besides, how often do we get the chance to relax these days and have a bit of fun? ”

Looking around at the various members of the 501st indulging in the festivities while every so often stopping by to humour their Commander’s whims with over the top obedience, Anakin finds himself agreeing with the sentiment. The Force itself hums with the combination of good humour and camaraderie. Right now there is only friendship and family and for just a moment the War seems so very far away. His contemplation is interrupted by Rex returning with the requested sweets.

“Here you are Comm.. I mean, My Lady. Only the finest Muja cakes for you, and a glass of kythla juice to go with it - Kix says to make sure you don’t get dehydrated in all the excitement.”

“Thank you Rex!” she says as she takes the proffered tray with all the regal grace she can muster, taking care not to spill the drink on wither herself or her attendants. “See Master? Everthing is fine!”

“OK, OK!” Anakin says, raising his hands in surrender, barely concealing his fondness for his padawan. “I know when I’m beat. ”  

“Good! Now go find Master Obi-Wan! We need music and he sings the the best out of everyone here!”   
Anakin grins, bright and wide.

“As the goddess commands!”

******

 

_**Feuillemort** _

_Definition: Having the color of a faded leaf_

 

It happens slowly but surely, aided by the wind and suns despite the presence of the cloak he cannot quite find it in himself to part with.

(How Cody would have laughed if he knew, Obi-Wan Kenobi, holding on to a cloak for more than a month or so! Impossible! But Cody was not here, Cody was no longer his Cody, just like…  No. So many things he once thought impossible, unthinkable, had become reality. There is no use dwelling on might-have-beens.)

The first he notices it is in the market, the bright shine of a speeder’s polished chassis catching his image in its reflection. It is startling. Once vibrant reddish gold strands have been bleached pale, the texture made rough by the steady abrasion of desert sand. His beard, once neatly trimmed appears rough and wild. His face is that of a man much older. None who look at him now would ever equate him with the smooth and suave Negotiator plastered over the holonet not five years previous. Oh, he can still recognise his own features, but they are blurred, eroded like the harsh landscape he now calls home.

How appropriate.

(But it’s not home, never home. Home is shadowed halls and bubbling fountains and the soft murmur of contemplation. Home is hard plasteel and the smell of grease and hundreds of voices all the same and yet so different. Home is the strong hand on his shoulder, the presence at his back and by his side, the smile offered only to a treasured few… His home is gone.)

Time passes, and he continues to fade. His hair shifts from gold, to white, to silver. His eyes grow milky, though the intellect behind them remains keen as ever. Young Luke is very much his parents’ son, and can be relied upon to somehow place himself directly in the path of trouble, wherever it might be found. His bones ache now, and he finds himself needing to rest more often as the years go on. The Force is his guide, but age is inevitable and hastened by this place of endless struggle.

How strange it is, to look older than his Master ever would. He is not a vain man, but hopes that perhaps one day, when he passes into the Force, he might see himself again as he was; young and strong and full of hope. He still has hope, he guards it dearly from afar, but it is a hope burdened by unfathomable grief and longing. There is a deep and shameful part of him that almost wishes for it to be done with, for his watch to be ended. But love and duty are stronger than pain, and he remains.

And waits.

Until it comes, in the form of a brilliant soul accompanied by a pair of all too familiar droids and there is a job to be done, a princess to rescue and there is no time to worry. No time to wonder. No time…

He knows what the Sith Lord sees. He is old. He is weak. It is all true. He is but a shadow of his old self. And yet… He looks to Luke, to Leia, bright and strong and green. Perhaps he might have wished for more, more time, more training, more stories, but it is not to be. He has done enough. It is their time now.

He smiles.

And allows himself to fade.

 

******

 

_**Apoplectiform** _

_Definition: Resembling apoplexy_

 

 

“Ok, consider me impressed. I didn’t think it was even possible for Master Windu to turn that colour.”

Obi-Wan glares at his former Padawan. “Anakin! Please, this is serious.”

“Pfft. I know it is. But can you blame me for enjoying this? For once it’s not me their blaming for this.” Anakin says, smirking in a most irritating manner.

To be fair, he is correct. Anakin had absolutely nothing to do with the scene unfolding in front of them. He had, in fact, been in orbit with the rest of the fighter squadrons, when the initial incident took place. For that matter, Obi-Wan himself had been some distance from the phenomenon when it went off (which in retrospect, he thinks, was a very, very lucky for all involved)…

No one was quite sure what the objects original purpose was, but its effect on Force sensitive beings was rather apparent. In front of them a sincerely repentant Dooku  is making a case for his immediate imprisonment and negotiation for a ceasefire while a heavily restrained Luminara glares at them all through sulphurous yellow eyes and hisses curses against them and their weak Jedi ways. 

The council is in uproar.

Yoda is making a case for keeping them both in Jedi custody rather than turning Dooku over to the senate (and a part of Obi-Wan wonders how much of that is a desire to limit political interference and how much is protective instinct at the return of a padawan long thought lost), while Ki Adi-Mundi urges caution due to the unknown period of effect and the potential for Sith trickery, and Kit Fisto remarks that this might be the perfect opportunity to push forward and finally free Ryloth once and for all and Mace, Mace is visibly twitching and he can swear there is smoke coming out of his ears.

Yes, Obi-Wan can definitely see why Anakin might find this all amusing. On the other hand, thanks to the alignment shift they still have to work out what to do with one Jedi-Master turned involuntary Sith, one former Sith turned penitant Jedi and the Force-Object itself which no one was game to touch for fear of reactivating it, but also work out how in the universe they were going to explain this all to the Senate…

He sighs.

And somehow, he just knew he was going to be the one left to do the dirty work.

“I apologise Masters” comes the polite tone of the current leader of the CIS interrupting Mace’s tirade, “But I feel it would be remiss of me not to point out that while my own allegiances have shifted back to the Light, the same can not be said for my erstwhile master. “

All eyes immediately shift to their cooperative captive.

“Know the identity of the Sith Lord you do?”

“Yes Master” Dooku says with a smile (Dooku smiling! Not smirking, not leering, but genuinely smiling. What is the galaxy coming to?).

He turns to Obi-Wan, and oh does he have a very bad feeling about this.

“They say the best lies are based in truth, and I am afraid Master Kenobi that I was being most truthful in my explanations on Geonosis. There is indeed a Sith in the Senate.”

A thousand small things fit together in his head and of course, oh of course! Why did they not see it before? He looks at back and forth between the solemn not-quite Sith and a rather quizzical looking Anakin.

The Chancellor is a Sith.

Karking hell!

 

 


	3. Yet Another Obi-Wan and Young Luke feels fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [A response to a prompt from @loverofcake on Tumblr](https://lurkingcrow.tumblr.com/post/168800921754/what-you-mentioned-about-luke-always-being-aware)
> 
> _What you mentioned about Luke always being aware of Obi-Wans presence on Tattoine, shielding him and surrounding him with warmth and comfort is pretty much exactly what I thought as well. Bearing that in mind, we know from FACPOV that Obi hand made ships for Luke and we also know psychometry is totally a thing in the GFFA. So, does Luke play with his ships when he is stressed/upset because he feels Obi's love and protective care for him when he is holding them?_

******

0BBY, Tatooine

 

_“One more season”_

The phase echoes over and over again in Luke’s head as he flops onto his bed. Every time. Every time he mentions leaving Uncle Owen has a reason to delay. He’s never getting off this rock!

He barely thinks before reaching for the model on the shelf. Running his fingers over the smooth wood, the finely crafted wings flowing smoothly into the engine turbines. Instantly he can feel some of his anger flow away.

The ships are something he has known for as long as he can remember. Each year, on his birthday, there’s a new one waiting - perfectly proportioned and looking like something straight out of the holomagazines he covets so carefully.

They are full of love.

In his younger years he assumed that they were a special gift from his Aunt and Uncle, the kind of present saved only for the most important occasions. But… no matter how he asked Aunt Beru would never tell him where they came from, who crafted them and how he could find them to thank them. Uncle Owen’s jaw would tighten every time, and at some point during his early teens Luke realised that there was no way his Uncle, who discouraged his interest in space flight, would commission such a thing. 

Especially not when money was so tight.

That was perhaps the most perplexing part. The models were WOOD. Not flimsy plastic, reused metal or crude ceramic but wood - a scarce commodity on a desert world. Even without the clearly high level of craftsmanship, or the obvious care taken to mimic his latest interests, these were an impressive gift!

And they were Luke’s.

He smiles. Just handling them he can feel the warmth and determination flow through him. 

One day, he’s going to fly. He knows it.

 And once he comes back he’s going to track down his mysterious benefactor and thank them.

******

1 ABY, Tatooine

 

The ruins of the homestead look almost the same as the day he left. The smoke is long gone, but the harsh winds and scouring sands have barely touched the blackened remnants of the place he called home.

And yet it feels different.

He does not turn to look at the place he knows holds the final resting place of the couple who raised him as their own. 

Luke doesn’t know what brought him here. He came back to this planet to find answers, to his past, to his future, but he finds himself dwelling on his current, lonely present.

He shakes his head in an effort to shake the thought. He has Han, and Wedge and the rest of his squadron. He has Leia, and honestly who ever thought a farmboy like him would one day be calling a princess friend? He’s not alone. And yet…

 Something’s missing.

He has a suspicion he knows what. 

In Ben’s cave, before the bounty hunter came, he had almost felt it. For a moment he was sure Ben would come around the corner to tell him to go home before Uncle Owen sent out search parties, but the moment faded and all he was left with was a box with his name on it and the sinking feeling of reality reasserting itself. 

It’s all gone. His childhood is gone. Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, Old Ben… They say you can never go back, but it still hurts to KNOW it in the depths of your bones. 

He needs to go. The Rebellion needs him, and there’s nothing for him here.

Luke turns, but a brief tug from the Force draws his attention to something poking out of the sand to his left, half covered by the rubble from the house.

It’s a model.

The last one, he idly notes, the paint peeling, once graceful wings half charred, but it is definitely the ship he received that last birthday and for an instant he can hear Uncle Owen muttering that he was too old to be messing about with toys, and…

His knees touch the sand before he realises. With frantic movements he deftly  sweeps the sand away and expose the fragile wood. Carefully he picks it up, pulling off one glove to gently run his fingertip over the fuselage.

Oh.

When he left this planet he was a novice, and had barely touched the power of the Force. Now, scarcely older yet infinitely wiser, he UNDERSTANDS.

Ben.

Ben had made them.

Ben had loved him.

And he can still feel his presence lingering in the wood touching his skin.

It is warm, comforting and if there is a hint of wetness on Luke’s cheek it is only because of the wind.

He stands, cradling the broken toy to his chest with one hand, the other patting the bag that contains the books and other objects Ben left for him.

He smiles.

 No matter what the Empire throws at him, he’s going to make it. He knows it.

And he has Ben to thank.


	4. Qui-Gon's Couch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [An Anon prompt from Tumblr:](https://lurkingcrow.tumblr.com/post/168800904899/prompt-qui-gons-couch-was-the-comfiest-in-the)
> 
>  
> 
> _Qui-Gon's couch was the comfiest in the Order, it was the stuff of legends. Many attempts were made to acquisition it._

******

“Well, here we are! Home sweet home!”

Ahsoka knows she shouldn’t be anxious, not after everything she and her new Master have been through .

( _Master! She has a Master! Who, ok miiiiiiight not be exactly what she was expecting, but already she can feel how well they fit together_ )

But the door in front of her is a thing of legend. To the untrained eye it looks like any of the other doors in the temple, smooth and unadorned, but even a Padawan like her can sense the soft thrumming of security sensors just below the surface.

Skyguy looks at her, questioning and she blushes.

“Sorry Master, I just… there are STORIES, you know?”

His grin lights up the dim hallway and he throws one large arm around her shoulders.

“I bet there are! But not to worry Snips - you’re part of the family now! I’ve already added your codes to the allowed list, and if you put your hand here…”

He reaches out to place her hand against the cool hardness of the door. For a moment she can see the outline of her hand flash blue against the metal, hear the faint whine of electrical systems disengaging before the door swishes open with barely a sound.

“… you’re all done!”

The interior of the room looks much the same as any other; neutral tones and simple shapes illuminated by the soft temple lights, but here are there you can see the echoes of its occupants. On the table lies a mouse droid, half disassembled. Beside it a neatly stacked pile of holopads and a half full cup of tea. The sole window to the room is partially obscured by the abundance of green leaves produced by the plant sitting on its sill. None of these however are what hold her attention.

“Ah!  Anakin, Ahsoka - there you are! I was beginning to think you weren’t going to join me!”

Master Kenobi seems to appear from nowhere, his hands full  with a tray bearing something that smells delicious and her Master barely blinks before reaching to take some of the excess items before they fall. 

“Oh thank you Anakin. If you wouldn’t mind clearing some space we’ll…”

There is a muffled thump of several items being unceremoniously swept onto the floor.

“*sigh* well I suppose that works.Shall we begin? Master Koon was kind enough to make recordings during our absence, and with any luck we can get through at least a few episodes pending any new emergencies…”

Ahsoka barely pays attention to his words, because there it is. Right in front of her. 

 **The Couch**.

At first glance it doesn’t look like anything special. Perhaps a little older than standard, but the Jedi are not ones for waste, and perhaps a fraction larger than the newer models. But it still appears to be nothing more than a couch.

And yet wars have nearly been fought over this piece of furniture.

( _And may yet be. Dooku is a covetous man, and unlike previous enemies he knows full well the significance of this particular piece of furniture as well as the limitations imposed by the Treaty of Jinn on its usage_.)

According to temple gossip, this couch, originally assigned to Master Qui-Gon Jinn is THE most comfortable piece of furniture on Coruscant. Forget the luxury lounges of the rich and famous, the specially designed medi-beds of the high end medical centres, if you want comfort and relaxation, THIS is the seat you want.

It’s not just physical comfort either. The Couch is purported to offer a deep sense of spiritual peace akin to some of the most calming parts of the Temple gardens. For Jedi on active rotation, such serenity is a siren call that is difficult to resist.

Rumour has it that in the early days Master Jinn’s close friends were invited to use it in his absence, however all that ended following the dreaded Starberry Jam and RishiNut Butter Incident of which Jedi of a certain age Will Not Speak. Since then however use of the Couch has been highly restricted, and not even the greatest Masters of the Order have been given the honour of receiving its blessings.

Not that they haven’t tried.

Master Windu once assigned Master Jinn and then Padawan Kenobi to a three month long diplomatic mission in order to keep them distracted long enough to remove the couch only to discover a decoy had been used. Master Yaddle apparently was once caught in the ductwork cursing the ingenious sensor setup. Even Master Plo admits to having tried once, just for the sake of it, only to be distracted with a will placed mind trick.

And here she is. Being beckoned to sit, Master Skywalker to the left, Master Kenobi to the right, right in the middle of the Couch’s lauded comfort.

Master Kenobi seems to pick up her nervousness, smiling at her gently, but it is Skyguy who sets her moving with a well placed Force tug.

“Come on Snips! Join us!”

And she does.

The cushion is pleasantly firm soft beneath her, yet still firm enough to support her tired muscles.

But it is still just a comfortable seat.

Again, her surprise must echo in the Force because she can feel the suppressed amusement surrounding her from both sides.

“Just wait Ahsoka. You’ll see” Anakin says with a wink, turning on the holoprojector and taking the bowl Obi-Wan offers him. “For now, just watch the show.”

So she does.

Time seems to pass in an instant and it is only when she goes to reach for the last piece of bread that she realises she can barely move her arms. Her limbs feel like jelly and every last bit of tension she carried though her first combat mission is gone.

“Wha-?”

She had thought her Master half asleep, but his deep chuckle lets her know her situation has not gone unnoticed.  

“Told ya.” he says, reaching up and stretching like an oversized cat. “Nothing better after a long mission.”

“But-?”

Master Kenobi chimes in then, his voice warm and wistful. “It’s something of a tradition by now. When I was young Master Qui-Gon would insist that we take the time to watch a holodrama or two after a long mission. He claimed it helped remind him that he was back in the temple, not on some Force forsaken dustball half the galaxy away. Either way, it was an excellent way of spending time together.”

With barely a pause Skyguy takes over the tale “It still is. But it’s also a promise - when I was a young padawan and Obi-Wan had to leave me he’d always agree to watch a holovid together when he got back…”

“IF you behaved!”

“Fine, IF I behaved. But that’s not to point. The point is that he came back. Safely. To watch movies with me.”

They both look at her meaningfully and Ahsoka finds herself more confused than ever.

 “Wait. None of that explains anything! What makes this couch so special?!”

Obi-Wan arches an eyebrow. 

“Nothing.”

“Nothing??!!”

“It’s just a couch, Snips.” Anakin adds. “I mean Master Qui-Gon looked after it, but it’s not fundamentally any different from the rest. The only difference is that it was assigned to these quarters.”

And Ahsoka  **gets** it.

It’s just a couch.

A couch that her master, and her master’s master had laughed and loved and lived on before her.

A couch that friends playfully fought and schemed and bonded over.

A couch that binds together whole generations through whispered rumours and secretive gossip.

The couch means nothing.

It’s the people that matter.

She looks up, to find both men beaming at her.

She smiles back.

And wriggles further into her seat, taking advantage of Anakin’s position to use his arm as a headrest.

“Come on! I want to see how the Princess escapes the hidden fortress!”

It’s time to add her own memories to the legend.


	5. Ahsoka Fallen Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "Fallen Star" available on [ here on my Tumblr](https://lurkingcrow.tumblr.com/post/171234609754/ahsoka-prompt-fallen-star)

It’s been years since the war ended, since everything changed, but Ahsoka still can’t get used to the silence. It’s worst as she travels between the outermost systems, searching for uninhabited planets to hide the growing Rebellion.

Growing up in the Temple, she’d been surrounded not only by the thrumming bustle of Coruscant’s billions, but also the bright presence of the hundreds of Jedi coming and going as they went about their business safeguarding the galaxy.

It’s something that would be difficult to describe to a non sensitive, but then again the Force always is. It is a part of everything, everyone - ever present and ever changing, strongest where life flourishes and grows, but never fully absent. And amid the shifting tapestry of light and dark that every Force user lived with, the Jedi had shone like stars.

But now the sky stands empty.

And Ahsoka is alone.

.

It’s been less than a day since she learnt the truth, since her world turned upside down again, and Ahsoka ponders what might have been. If she had stayed, would she have made a difference? Could she have changed their fate? Or would she have fallen as so many other did, never knowing the source of their betrayal?

The bright presence of Ezra and Kanan push against the edges of her senses in a way that is both familiar and jarringly foreign. They, like Fulcrum, are forged from sorrow and their jagged edges are not so easily smoothed. The past is dead, even if it is far from buried.

Sometimes in her more maudlin moments Ahsoka think back on those last years and wonder. Because they had been wondrous. Perhaps in retrospect, it had been the creeping Darkness that had made the Jedi seem so bright, so sure. So bright that you barely noticed their numbers steadily diminishing. And amid all those shining stars, Skyguy had been a supernova, almost blinding in his brilliance.

But that is how black holes are formed.

And Ahsoka mourns.


	6. Time Travel Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt :  
> thought: (idk if this is what you wanted to hear from ppl, sorry) time-travel do over w obikin where they both remember? i lowkey scream thinking about the reunion tbh (especially if its just.....happy) thx <3 xox 
> 
> [Available on my Tumblr here](https://lurkingcrow.tumblr.com/post/176877222164/thought-idk-if-this-is-what-you-wanted-to-hear)

At first he thinks he is dreaming.

After all, he is dead, and who is to say the dead do not dream?

It’s not the most pleasant of dreams, back in the place of his childhood, the hot Tatooine winds blowing sand inside the coarse fabric of his tunic. Given how long he has attempted to put this part of his life behind him, one might even call it a nightmare. Small, weak, subject to the whims of others, too young to know how to consciously reach out to the Force… reliving this period of time is a truly painful thing.

But his mother is here. 

If this is his punishment for failing the galaxy, for failing his friends, for failing his  _family_? Then Anakin Skywalker can bear it. It is only what he deserves.

He falls back into the patterns of life as a slave with a kind of calm acceptance that both confuses Shmi and makes her proud. It is not surrender, she can see the way her Ani grimaces before following Watto’s orders, the multitude of petty revenges he enacts, but if there is anger it is tempered, controlled… And when he speaks of the future it is with a strange kind of certainty that the fantasies he composes will one day be reality. Perhaps it is wrong to be grateful for the speed at which he is growing up, but Shmi cannot help but hope this change in attitude helps keep him safe.

Weeks pass into months, and Anakin finds himself wondering. Because for all that this MUST be a dream, parts of it feel more real than his memories. Well, there’s one way to find out.

For the first time since he arrived in what he assumed to be his form of penance, Anakin Skywalker uses a lifetime of knowledge and opens himself to the Force.

And promptly falls to the floor.

There is no doubting it. This is real. Anakin Skywalker, formerly Darth Vader, Jedi Knight, Lord of the Sith, the Chosen One, has travelled back in time.

His first thought is disbelief. Then determination. If he is truly in the past then he can  _change_  things! He can make sure he does things  _right_ , that he doesn’t fall for the same traps! He can… He should… He… 

He is alone. 

Because even if he changes nothing, even if he lets things come to pass like they did last time, no one else has  _experienced_  the things he has. No one else remembers the creeping Dark, the galaxy at war. No one else  _understands_.

Oh.

Perhaps this IS a fitting punishment after all…

He pulls back into himself.

No point in accidentally gaining unwanted attention.

He has some plans to make…

,

Months pass into years. He completes Threepio once more, taking care not to change his core personality programming or make other “improvements” to his design. In the end that neurotic personality had helped keep his children SAFE, and that is something Anakin will not put at risk.

Presuming they are born of course. 

Anakin has so much blood on his hands. So much. And the worst of it is from those closest to him.  Even if no one else but him knows it’s there. Padmé, Ob… Everyone would be better off if he avoided them this time around.  How can he possibly go about making those relationships again when he carries the knowledge that their deaths are his doing?

But for all his regrets Anakin cannot bring himself to give up the chance to see them once more…

So it is that the fated day comes, and Qui-Gon Jinn strides into Watto’s shop, the plainly clad figure of the “Handmaiden” following in behind him and Anakin almost freezes. He forces himself to go through the motions, to follow exactly what he did last time around, and then…

She’s right there.

Padmé.

“Angel…” he breathes out, almost against his will.

“What?” she says, looking confused and beautiful and oh how Anakin has missed her!

There’s a pause and Anakin abruptly remembers that this isn’t actually a memory and he needs to say something…

“Luminous beings who live on the moons of Iego, considered by many to be the most beautiful beings in the universe. The rumours are rather exaggerated of course, but I dare say it’s still quite the compliment.”

Anakin cannot breathe.

Because that is Obi-Wan Kenobi. Obi-Wan Kenobi, with the length of his padawan braid peeking out over his shoulders where an expertly folded shawl shows signs of being used to keep out the sand. Obi-Wan Kenobi who is smiling at him.

Obi-Wan Kenobi who  _should not be here_. 

Padmé turns around to admonish the apparition. “P… Obi-Wan! Don’t do that! You startled him!”

Obi-Wan, impossible Obi-Wan, sketches a bow with a smile, kneeling to look Anakin directly in the eye.

(It almost hurts to look at those eyes again.)

“My apologies An… my friend. I didn’t mean to cause you grief. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. It’s a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.“ he says, holding out one well calloused hand.

Any other person would have dismissed the minor hesitation in the young man’s voice, would have thought nothing of that slight hiccup in his words. But Anakin Skywalker is no ordinary person. Anakin Skywalker once knew Obi-Wan Kenobi in ways that no other being living or dead ever could.

And Obi-Wan Kenobi does not stutter like that. Not without reason.

A small glimmer of warmth begins to start in his chest, burning its way up through his throat.

 **Hope**.

He allows his lips to draw into a wild smile, fingers reaching out towards that outstretched hand. “My name is Anakin Skywalker.” he says as skin meets skin and Anakin  _pulls,_ both physically and metaphorically _._

To Padmé the strange boy appears to take the Padawan’s hand before moving forward into a full fledged hug, small limbs clinging around a stunned Obi-Wan’s torso like it is the last piece of solid ground.

Within the Force, it is remarkably similar. 

Using a lifetime’s worth of skill Anakin reaches out to Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force, savouring its comforting familiarity, bypassing the fragile shields already beginning to crack under the strain of extreme emotion.

“ _Obi-Wan_.” he calls with heart and soul. “ _Obi-Wan, Master!_ ” 

The touch of the other’s mind is so familiar, soothing in a manner that is instantly recognisable, with Jedi Master’s skill and experience.

“ _Anakin? My Anakin?_ ” comes the reply as that touch reaches back into him and yes, there it is. Like him, this soul is older than the body it inhabits. 

“ _Obi-Wan. Please. I am so sorry. Sorry for everything._ ”

“ _Anakin!_ ” Disbelief and joy so strong he almost drowns beneath it. “ _Oh Anakin, my Brother, you came back. You are here!_ ”

And that aching loneliness that he has unknowingly carried for years, decades, an entire lifetime, meets its counterpart in the man before him and disappears in a giant wave of love and  _rightness_. A missing part slots back into place and there’s no longer a gaping hole in his chest where half his heart once lived.

There will be time for explanations, time for planning and apologies and the tentative rebuilding of all that lies between them, but right now none of it matters.

Because they’re back.

Together.

In this instant-that-is-an-eternity.

And that is  **everything**.

.

_“Obi-Wan?”  
_

_“Yes dear one?”  
_

_“You have no idea how much I missed you.”_

_“Oh Anakin, I really think I do.”  
_

_“… please tell me you have a plan.”  
_

_“… not as such. But we will manage. Together.”  
_

_“Together.”_

They open their eyes.

The future lies ahead.


	7. Three Unexpected Prompts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a challenge on Tumblr, wherein my task was to take a prompt and make turn it into something unexpected.  
> Can be found [ here ](https://lurkingcrow.tumblr.com/post/174188902754/purple-for-the-unexpected-outcome#notes), [ here ](https://lurkingcrow.tumblr.com/post/174166465129/can-you-make-cuddling-as-a-prompt-into-something#notes) and [ here ](https://lurkingcrow.tumblr.com/post/171236634564/full-disclosure-first-time-i-saw-the-phrase#notes) on my Tumblr  
> I'm told I succeeded.

 

 

_**Prompt:** 'Purple', for the unexpected outcome._

 

Cody hates this karking planet. As if the constant shadows, eerie vegetation and tenacious seppies aren’t bad enough, it’s obvious that something is VERY wrong with his General.

Each day the circles under Kenobi’s eyes have grown progressively darker, until they now resemble the deep indigo mud that coats their camp. His face is always drawn, his expression both vague and wary, and sometimes Cody will catch him flinching for no apparent reason.

Any attempt to ask about their General’s condition has been waved off with a glibe reassurance that the he’s fine, even though anyone with working eyes can clearly see that the Jedi is NOT.

Cody cannot wait until they leave Umbara far behind.

And then things just get weirder.

He’s still not quite sure what happened with the 501st. First General Skywalker was called away and then General Krell was in command and communication went out and now the seppies defences are down and apparently Krell was Fallen… None of it makes sense. Especially not the fact that Skywalker is HERE, striding across the battlefield, livid bruising running from the top of his hairline down his neck and into the tunics below. 

His eyes are fixed on Kenobi, who is watching back with an expression of disbelief and Cody has a very bad feeling about this…

There’s a moment as the two Jedi draw near, almost but not quite close enough to touch, gazes locked on one another.

The world is silent, but for the faint rustling of violet fronds on the surrounding plain. One heartbeat, two, and Skywalker abruptly drops to his knees, head bowed.

“Obi-Wan,” he pleads in a half broken rasp, “Forgive me.”

And Cody has no idea what the kriff is happening but Kenobi’s face is… indescribable. There’s a distinct feeling that this is too private, the emotions too raw for public viewing as the older Jedi reaches down to cradle his former Padawan’s face between his hands.

“Oh Anakin,” he breathes, voice full of fragile hope “Of course. You only ever needed to ask.”

And then there are faint tears running down their faces as they pull off some kind of Force communion thing and Cody looks to Rex with resignation. There’s no telling how long the Generals are going to be about their Jedi business, but experience tells him there’s not going to be answers until they’re finished and in the meantime there’s still work to be done.

He’s just started pulling Rex and his boys in for debrief when a sharp bark of laughter draws Cody’s attention back to the Jedi. 

“You still haven’t explained what happened to your face.”

Obi-Wan is smiling and that alone is enough to make Cody feel better about the whole situation even before Skywalker sheepishly rubs the back of his head with a fragile grin of his own.

“I may have panicked a little. The landing doors were still open and all I could think about was that I COULDN’T face him again. Not yet. So I jumped. It’s a pity I didn’t manage to land on Krell.“ 

Kenobi raises one eyebrow and oh thank the Force things are going back to normal! Mollified for the moment Cody turns back to his work.

It may be a trick of the light, but the Jedi almost seem to glow against the dark twisting shadows and Cody likewise feels his heart ease…

“Commander?”

“Yes General?”

There’s a strange cast to General Kenobi’s features, an almost unshakeable resolve echoed in General Skywalker’s purpling face as Cody turns to receive his newest orders.

“ I think we’ve been here quite long enough, don’t you? Please begin handover preparations, and let me know when we’re back in contact with the fleet. There’s a minor matter I need to check with the medical bay regarding our surgical capacity.”

Cody grins.

He has no karking idea what’s going on, but that’s ok. These are his men, these are his Generals, and so long as they’re together there’s nothing they can’t handle.

Nothing.

“Sir, yes Sir!!!”

 

(Yep, it’s another time travel plot! This time around Umbara went very differently!)

 

*******

 

_**Prompt** : Can you make "cuddling" as a prompt into something unexpected? (I hope I won't regret this)_

 

The desert is cold at night. Gone is the light of day and merciless wind whips across open plains and through narrow canyons, tearing all heat from the sun warmed sands and those who dwell upon them.

It is not so bad in the cities where high walls keep out the howling gale and faint lights illuminate the streets that never truly sleep. Likewise the buried curves of distant homesteads cradle their inhabitants in warmth and security, protected from the perils outside. And even for those without such protection the nights can be withstood with the aid of companions, the shared heat of bodies piled against one another under fur or leathers standing firm against the cold…

But Obi-Wan Kenobi is alone. And as he lies down in his small dwelling, pulling the ragged cloak down to sleep, the only arms that wrap around him are his own.

*

The desert is cold at night. But Obi-Wan’s robes are warm, particularly those against his chest. Every so often he needs to tighten his grip on the precious bundle as it tries to squirm out of his arms, letting out soft grumbles every time the escape is thwarted. Obi-Wan softly laughs and resumes his quiet humming, the gentle melody rising and falling in slow even cadence.

He’s not sure how long he’s been standing beneath the starlit sky, but the predawn light is starting to rise when he feels the heat of a strong chest pressed against his back, sharp chin hooking over his shoulder as a second set of arms wraps around his own.

“Come back to bed” the voice mumbles into his neck “ You know Padmé worries if it’s empty when she wakes.”

Obi-Wan smiles. “Just a moment. I think your offspring is settled at last. I didn’t want two upset babies.”

Anakin huffs. “Good. It’s cold. If I have to put up with hiding on this Force forsaken dustball then you can at least help keep me warm.”

And really, why would Obi-Wan object?

The night is cold. But their home is warm

 

*******

 

 

_**Prompt:** Full disclosure. First time I saw the phrase Obitine, I thought it meant Obi-Wan and Palpatine. In my defense, I'd never read the books or watched Clone Wars._

 

Obi-Wan Kenobi was a man used to unusual circumstances. As a Padawan he’d blamed it all on Master Qui-Gon and his methods, however after over a decade with his own apprentice he was beginning to suspect that it was just his own luck at play. 

Because one moment he’d been carefully investigating the mysterious Force artefact Cody and his boys had found in the jungle surrounding their latest staging post and the next…

Well, the Jungle is the same but the armed bounty hunters and the small group of well dressed sentients they are chasing is most certainly not.

Obi-Wan sighs. 

At least he has a good idea which side to intervene on.

Hours later, a little battered and bruised, he is seated beside the small campfire  in the shadow of the damaged transport vessel that had brought his new friends to this planet. The transport vessel that had been carrying the Senator of Naboo. Who is most definitely  **not** Padmé Amidala. As, judging by the dates in the navigation system she will not, in all likelihood be born for some time yet. In fact, unless he is very much mistaken, Obi-Wan himself does not yet exist in this period. Which truthfully, is a bit of a relief given his limited knowledge on temporal paradoxes…

Force, why is it always him?

“Ah, Master Jedi!  Would you care for some refreshment? I’m afraid our options are a little limited but a warm meal would be the least we could do to show our appreciation for your assistance.”

His reverie is broken by the smiling face of one of the Senator’s aides offering him a bowl of… something. It smelled both fragrant and edible which made the dish already far more attractive than most of his field rations. He scrabbles to pace a name to the face - the last few hours had been full of rather a lot of running and random screaming on the part of the civilian group, although come to think of it this particular assistant had retained admirable composure through the whole process.

“Oh, yes, you have my thanks, ah… Sheev was it?”

The young man’s aquiline features remain pleasantly cordial, however there is a distinct undertone of satisfaction as he speaks. “Yes indeed - that is my name. You have a keen memory sir Jedi! Unfortunately during all the chaos earlier I managed to catch your own?”

Obi-Wan, already tired and weary from the whole situation, catches the automatic response ready to spill forth from his tongue. Paradoxes. Can’t have that. 

“Ben.” he says, hopefully not to quickly. “Ben Kenobi. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

*

_The pleasure is all mine_. Sidious thinks as he watches the Jedi devour his meal with great intent. Oh, there will be great pain no doubt when his Master discovers the failure of his plans thanks to the interference of this unexpected obstacle, but what Sidious has learned here is well worth such banalities.

Most Jedi are, without exception, pitifully weak. Self sacrificial and self limiting, never acting upon their desires, never reaching their full potential.

But this Jedi? Oh this Jedi reeks of power. Look at how quickly he had assessed the situation, how effortlessly he routed their pursuit, how decisive he was in his every action. The Jedi is skilled, his connection to the Force is strong, and yet already he can see the Dark has made its mark on this man, how great anger and sorrow is held back by iron clad control. It intrigues him, calls to him with its great potential. Here at last is a worthy conquest, a being who may one day be worthy to be called Sidious’ Apprentice.

If he can be turned.

Such mastery, of himself and of the Force, may after all prove difficult to overcome. On the other hand, he has time, and there is more than one way to go about chipping away ones self control. And this Ben  **is** very easy on the eyes.

Sidious smiles. 

It is time to plan a most thorough, and highly pleasurable, seduction.

 

 

(I am so, so sorry for any mental trauma caused. Be assured that while young Palpatine is considerably more attractive than his older self, he is also far less experienced in the art of manipulation and Obi-Wan is far more interested in returning to his own time than in exchanging more than perfunctory flirtations with the junior politician.)


End file.
